The Last of the English Roses
by Era.In.Rutilus
Summary: Just a little idea I had & wanted to explore. What if Catherine Parr had come to court in 1519 and stolen Henry's heart then? How would this have changed their fate and that of his other wives? Terrible explanation I know.
1. Chapter I

_I tremble, they're gonna eat me alive_  
_If I stumble they're gonna eat me alive_  
_Can you hear my heart beating like a hammer?_  
_Beating like a hammer_

**_"Help I'm Alive" by Metric_**

**June 28th, 1519**

A swirl of colour, lights and sound assault her senses. The room is spinning and she doesn't quite know why; she hasn't had anything to drink as of yet- it's nerves she positive. Never before had Catherine attended an event such as this. The lavish masquerade was in honour of the King's 28th birthday and so of course no expense was spared in order to make the ball the most extravagant any courtier had seen since the King's own wedding celebrations.

Everyone was invited from the mightiest of Duke to the lowliest of country gentleman to join in with the festivities. The Parr's were among the many nobles to receive invitations and despite their notorious aversion of court they had to but oblige his Majesty; though honestly Catherine was secretly happy to attend even if her mother was not.

So far the night had been all but a blur of music, dance and laughter too much almost for a girl to take it all in. In the typical fashion the dance had been themed and everyone given roles in which to play; Catherine was a wood nymph or spirit of some sort. She cared not much for the character but relished the attire she had to wear.

A dress of vivid jade silk, the plain bodice having only ribbon ties for sleeves which tied into bows. The farthingale had several layers of tulle that puffed the skirt out. A top her head was a crown of silver filigree butterflies intricately crafted. Of which her long, burnished strawberry- blonde locks had been swept up into a high bun of which the headpiece decorated. She wore nothing more but matching soft silk silver shoes hidden beneath her dress.

She certainly felt magical and somewhat mysterious with the silver mask that shielded her face. As she surrendered to the frantic rhythms of the music and allowed herself to be twirled and paraded by an assortment of masked knights, she felt such an overwhelming sense of euphoria overtake her. Feelings of nausea and ecstasy filled her being and did little to keep her feet on the ground. However Catherine was much too caught up in the moment to even considering resting- too much fun was to be had to even contemplate stopping.

She continued to dance and there was never a shortage of men asking for her hand. One in particular she noted with amusement had danced with her twice already and was now leading her into yet another dance. He wore a silk doublet and shorts of a soft, fern green with white hose and brown, leather thigh- high boots. His mask too was silver and his jacket with silver detailing. Normally Catherine would have noticed such insignificant details more closely but under the haze of masque she was blissfully ignorant.

Though his mask hid much of his face she could make out his dark green eyes flecked with brown that for much of the dance were fixed intently on her. He like many of the other male couturiers was dark haired with tan skin, he was tall just peaking above six foot with a lean but muscular frame. She didn't have to see his entire face to know he was attractive, not the most handsome but notably good looking.

She had to of yet caught a name but to be didn't need one, it was a part of the enthrallment of masquerades- the mystery of it all. It was an opportunity to abandon all inhibitions and cast aside your identity and be whoever you desire. Everyone was for one night on equal footing, titles and names didn't matter all that mattered was the music and the dance. You could be the King of England and not a soul would ever know, you could dance with the King and be oblivious.

Of course Catherine was more than sure her 'knight' was no King, he certainly didn't have the gait or regal air. She sensed a minor noble but with his assured walk and posture one in favour, part of the inner circle perhaps, from what she could see behind the costume he certainly fitted the part well enough. As the song playing reached a climax Catherine and her partner pranced to the front of the procession. Her knight took the moment -though inadequate- to lean in and say "_So tell me fair wood nymph have you enjoyed yourself tonight?"_ To which Catherine's only reply was an arched eyebrow as they weaved under another dancing couple's arms clasped in an arch.

Most men would take the silence as hint that Catherine had no intention of engaging in conversation; especially if it was to take the course she knew it would. Sadly her partner seemed to lack enough tact or even common sense to realize this and continued down the slippery slope. _"I must confess I have, you have been a truly enchanting dancer and mystical creature or not you've bewitched me tonight."_This comment had both eyebrows raised and Catherine biting her lip hard as to not cackle at the man's attempts. Yet despite her continued silence he still tried to engage her. _"Tell me enchantresses are you as could on the dance floor as you are in bed?"_

This certainly engaged her, how dare he even contemplate asking her such a crude thing. Pity was replaced with indignant rage. Her jaw clenched as she stopped herself from giving him a slap to the back of the head like a mother would to her child, but she was a Parr and that wasn't courtier behaviour and beneath her. Instead as the music score came to and end and the pair were at the beginning of the parade of dancers she coyly stuck her left foot out and it found its mark. Her partner's feet came in contact with it and she felt him tip forward and with a great crash was left sprawled on the floor.

The whole room erupted in laughter; deafening. Catherine felt a tinge of guilt afterwards as she watched the man blush from head to toe as he struggled to pull himself up she offered a hand. He took and was surprised to find her jerk him sharply up almost causing him to tip forward and end up on the ground once more. As soon as he steadied himself and looked up he noticed his wood nymph was gone. He scanned the crowds and caught for a moment a glimpse of her lithe frame disappearing into the sea of party goers. All of which were staring at him and laughing but he cared not. He instantly set off after her but she was all but gone leaving him with only dirtied stockings and the memory of her delicious smirk. And the night descended further into revelry and mischief, the lights and music blurred as the alcohol poured drowning the sorrows of the court until the morning when the hangovers would drag those all back to their grim realities.


	2. Chapter II

_You hold me without touch_  
_You keep me without chains_  
_I never wanted anything so much_  
_Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain_

**_"Gravity" by Sara Bareilles_**

**June 29th, 1519**

Sir Anthony Knivert was never a particularly heavy drinker; not because he disliked alcohol but more he could never deal with its consequences. He could never really bear hangovers but so often he had to do so when in the chaos and delight of the balls and parties he would loose himself in the liquid wonder of the wine and beer that flowed as freely in the court as did water. It was water he now turned to the ease the pounding in his skull and to quench his parched throat.

He always hated the morning after a wild night- and there were many at Henry's court. It was fine for his friends the King and the Viscount of Lisle Charles, they could hold there alcohol and wake up fresh faced and composed. People like Anthony weren't so blessed with such the ability. He now yawned deeply as he shoved flask of water a pouch slung over his stallion's back and rubbed his tired eyes.

It was only five o'clock and he'd been up since 4, attending a quick mass before he and his friend's set out for a hunt. A hunt after dancing and boozing well into the night but the King insisted and he had to oblige. The others were tending to their weapons and dusting their hunting attire as the servants gathered the royal hunting dogs together.

They had stopped for a quick rest after a long chase after a large stag that ended when the creature made a clever beeline to through some thick brambles. They had not ventured too far into the woodlands as of yet and were in a large clearing of sloping hills and windswept plains.

As he was pulling on his black leather riding gloves Anthony glanced across the picturesque clearing of his surroundings now veiled in the thick morning mist, the ground still clothed in dew. He spotted a figure making their way across the grassy slope swathed in a long black cloak. They were followed by a huge hound ambling by the heel. He had yet to see a face but he could tell by the gait it was a woman, he watched for a moment as she strode in a hurried pace. He had a feeling he knew her that walk; light yet assured like a dancer or a doe, yes she had a definite spring in her step.

Her step he thought was like a wood nymph… his wood nymph from last night. "_Wait for me I'll be just a moment_" he murmured to his friend William Compton who was leaning lazily against an oak tree. Without hesitation he set off after the cloaked figure scarcely catching Compton's sarcastic remark _"Oh of course not, it's not as though we all haven't been waiting for half an hour already."_Knivert continued on, breaking into a light jog as he tried to catch up with the mystery damsel. Soon enough he caught up with the woman who was the top of the hill, she had clearly heard his approach as she stopped and slowly turned to see her pursuer.

It was her. He was certain despite her never removing her mask last night. Those eyes gave her away, they were so alive with a fiery spark and articulate intelligence that shown through. He couldn't describe their colourful beauty aptly enough, the best he could do was like two emeralds and sapphires smashed together and their remaining shards left; in one light shining the darkest forest green and in the other the deepest ocean blue. No artist could recreate them exactly even if he tried.

Her skin was like polished ivory, looked soft as the surface of peach. Her features were delicate and carved perfectly, finer than the work of any stone mason. Cheekbones raised high, a slender nose and jaw line. Rosebud lips looked just bitten, so full and moist. Her fiery red hair, the color of burnished copper; danced in the wind, like a flickering flame. That fell in thick glossy tendrils, as indecisive as her eyes, not sure whether it wanted to be curly or straight.

Her hair had a deep side parting and was plaited in a long braid that hung over the left shoulder and tied off with a lace ribbon. She wore underneath her hooded wool cloak with a black ribbon tie; a light summer dress in creamy cotton, the bodice had a simple lace detailing. A small gold cross hung from her neck.

They gazed at one another for a moment before Anthony broke the silence between them. _"So it seems we meet again fair wood nymph"_ he said with a smirk. _"And so it seems…"_ the young woman replied wistfully allowing her sentence to go unfinished and let the possibilities to hang in the morning air. All around them the golden warmth of the summer sun bathed them in a glow that gave the moment an element of magic.

"_I must say I was wondering if I would ever see the face behind the mask or you for that matter. Pray tell me what a young woman such as yourself is doing wandering alone so early?"_ Anthony watched as a corner of her lips for a moment flicked upwards, a brief smirk of amusement. _"I'm not alone I have Uther for company"_ she motioned to the hound at her feet. _"Besides I am not wandering, simply taking a stroll on a well known path taken by many, you shouldn't fret for me."_ Catherine was subtly flippant in her answer.

While the man was a pleasant surprise on her morning walk she was already, not more that a minute into conversation, bored of him. She had a feeling every conversation would be this way, after the first in which he tried to proposition her and now he was belittling her (unintentionally) fretting for her safety as if she was some helpless and stupid girl. Her eyes wandered as Knivert began to say something; over his shoulder she could see a figure approaching them.

"_It seems though that someone frets for you"_ she remarked coolly turning her gaze to Knivert. Of to which he turned, when spotting the approaching person he swore. Abruptly he turned to her and grunted _"The King"_. Katherine was a couturier and she knew the significance of those two words. Instantly she stood a little straighter and dusted some dirt off her cloak as he neared closer.

As Henry neared to 5 feet the pair sunk into their respective bow and curtsey, in unison saying _"You're Majesty"_. He stopped and nodded to signal that were allowed to stand, he didn't look at Catherine but turned to Anthony and said _"Knivert I appreciate that you may be having a very engaging conversation but we have a hunt on." _His eyes showed that he had no tolerance for excuses.

Anthony became flustered, he hated irritating the King. _"Yes of course I was just finishing with Miss…"_ he paused, he didn't know her name and it left him stuck. The situation turned awkward as he felt himself blush at not knowing her name. But Catherine could have easily left him to struggle but took pity and aided him _"Lady Parr and I do hope that we haven't offended you your Highness in keeping you from you outing."_ Her words were silky smooth and flowed with an even and composed tone, keeping her eyes down.

Henry turned to the woman and looked at, not just look but _look_. His gaze remained as his eyes ran up and down the entire length of her body taking her in. _"You need not look away."_ He murmured absorbed in her, Catherine slowly looked up and their eyes met. There they stood evaluating one another, taking in every detail of the other and saying nothing.

Catherine understood why Henry was heralded as the most handsome prince in Christendom, for he was handsome- dangerously so. He had an all together different kind of beauty to anyone else. Not like her's soft and delicate, not like Anthony's (was that his name?) rugged and humble. Henry's was harsh, the lines of his face were sharp, exact yet the lines melded into one another to appear somehow smooth, just of that of sculptor. The close shaven hair, a rich chocolate brown and the tanned skin only flawed by a couple of small scars. Battle wounds that she was sure held intriguing stories to them.

His beauty was cold, cold as those ice blue eyes, large and round. They had such depth to them, you almost drown in them. Eyes she couldn't quite read but eyes she was sure had seen enough to tell her a few more interesting tales. He stood wearing a simple white linen shirt underneath a brown leather vest and matching leather trousers with darker leather boots. It was unfussy and comfortable yet still was majestic. A sword and hunting knife were slung in his belt and she was sure that these weren't his only weapons on his person. It all further added to his infamous reputation and dangerous aura, it made Catherine feel uneasy yet excited her at the same time.

Henry looked to Knivert and spoke with a half smile on his lips _"I see you must have been very engaged to have us wait but now see why."_ He then took a step closer to Catherine and took her right hand and kissed it. She was caught off guard by this intimate gesture and was unsure whether or not to find pleasure in his warm lips against her cool skin. She withdrew her hand the minute her let go and took it within her other hand and held it, again not sure if she was shielding or cradling it.

"_I apologize but I must part you and Sir Anthony Knivert and leave you Miss Parr. I am to address you as Miss I assume?"_ Henry's eyebrow arched as he asked. Catherine straightened herself a little more and tried to reply indifferently "_Yes, Miss Parr, Lady Catherine Parr, Lady Parr will suffice."_ Now both eyebrows were raised, the devilish air faded as she mentioned her first name. _"Catherine"_ he murmured _"I shall remember that name."_

He said this mainly to himself before he turned on his heel, as he did so Catherine bowed. He walked by Anthony and nodded his head- a nod his friend knew was a signal they were leaving. Before he parted Knivert gave a quick bow to Catherine and said the young woman _"Well I shall remember that name and now I leave you too Lady Parr. Good day." "Good day to you to Sir Knivert"_, she bowed her head as he followed the King, though she noticed much more slowly and regrettably so.

She watched as the men made there way to their hunting party and mounting their horses before riding off into the tree filled horizon. Even when they had left she stood there, not at all certain why she hung about. She supposed her brain was trying to take in all that had happened. Still she wasn't sure of what she thought of the encounter. As the sun crept over the east skyline, it's rays shining hot and itchy on her back she collected her thoughts.

She straightened her cloak and ensured she had a good grip on her wolfhound Uther's lead before setting off. For a moment she considered mentioning this to her mother, how the King had flirted with her, she was certain, but thought better. Her mother would probably say that the morning heat had gotten to her and was making her imagine things.


	3. Chapter III

**_Apologies for not updating for ages, I have been beyond busy and to be honest got out of the habit of writing but now am back (with a vengeance.) I can't guarantee how often I'll update but will try to keep it regular. By the way I know that so far my portrayal of Catherine seems a bit different to whom she was but we only really know of the older Catherine and little of her younger days. So I'm using this leeway to have a bit of fun, after all when she was younger she probably was somewhat naïve and got carried away. They story will explore the journey which shaped her into the woman- the Queen- we know her as. So bear with me, once I get more into story you'll understand that I'm setting her up to experience events which will make her more sensible and dignified. She lived a relatively simple and sheltered life when she was young and didn't grow up at court so would be entitled to be a little gullible. (But she'll still have her sharp wit and composure.)_**

_I am afraid_  
_Afraid of losing time_  
_You are the race_  
_And I'll be racing your mind_

**"Quicker" by I Blame Coco**

**June 30****th****, 1519**

Catherine was incredulous at her mother's abrupt decision to pack up their apartments at court and head back to Kendal Castle; everyone except William her brother, a year younger. She was indignant to the injustice of allowing him to stay behind and enjoy court life while she was shipped back to the dismal, dull Cumbrian countryside to live life as a prisoner. A prisoner to her family and their spotless reputation. It simply was not fair and Catherine made sure her mother knew of it. She skulked around the rooms, talking to no one and eating little. When she was brooding she never felt hungry.

It didn't matter if William had found his way into the King's favour and into the elite group of friends he had, she should be allowed to stay too. But she could say nothing against her mother's will, always the obedient child. Unlike her sister Anne who flew into a temper that ended with a screaming match with her mother. Curses and all manner of abuse was thrown to and fro', it was ironic due to the Parr's notoriously composed natures and their manners.

Catherine was able to garner some amusement from it all. With Anne screaming: _"You take such pleasure in keeping us on tight leashes like a pack of hounds. Manipulating us, cheating us of our happiness so what there's no gossip to smear our good name? Well congratulations mother because the only gossip they have one you is that you're a miserable old spinster who keeps her poor children under lock and key; nothing but a prison warden trapping us in!" _

"_It's for your own good and that of the family. Ungrateful trollop, yes don't think I didn't see you winking at that Earl last night across the table! Might as well have opened your legs soon after. After all I've done for you this is how you treat me! I spent a day and two nights tearing my body apart not to give birth to a whore! If I didn't keep an eye than you be bedding every man in court, boozing like a sailor! I tear my hair out because of you!" _

She couldn't help herself and for once did not fight the smile brimming on her lips, hidden of course by the book she held up to her face. Catherine had positioned herself on the windowsill, the window was so deep she was able to use the ledge as seat; it had been a favourite spot for her during the course of their stay. It was sheltered enough for her to remain relatively undisturbed but in a position in which she could hear and see everything that went on. Currently she was torn between her book, a juicy red apple she had with her to snack on and the argument that had now made itself to the front of the fire place of the main drawing room, all of which she watched from the corner of her eye.

It was when the squabble had reached fever pitch that she sensed movement down below in the pathway that led from the court's privy gardens to the 'Home Park' 700 acres of hunting woodland where the deer and wild boar roamed, which the window overlooked. The King and his friends it seemed were out on another outing on horseback with no hounds or guns so she presumed it was just a quick hack through the woods. She recognized the King easily by his fine attire, similar to what he wore yesterday but only all black just like his fine stallion and Sir Knivert who wore a white shirt, grey waistcoat and white trousers which too matched his grey stallion.

There were two others she vaguely knew as the Viscount of Lisle Charles Brandon and Sir William Compton with them. As well as her brother who was seated proudly on his chestnut mare in his brand new riding jacket imported from Italy, a gift from their mother for becoming a favourite of the King. It was made of luxurious burgundy cotton; it was light and perfect for long rides in the summer heat and contrasted his light brown hair (slightly bleached in the light) and blue- grey eyes. It was these eyes that were filled with content. He had made it into the inner circle of the elite and was revelling in it.

Those eyes too were flitting about taking everything in, alert and waiting, they scanned over the faces of the small party which waited for the guards to ready themselves and for the servants to deliver the King's specific instructions for the evening meal tonight. They then drew upwards to the high walls and windows which littered them, specifically to one window which seemed to be occupied. It was Catherine his sister perched on the window and gazing down at them.

Their eyes meet and the pair smiled, William saw her reach for the latch and opened up the window. He encouraged his horse to the edge of the group and positioned underneath. From here he could hear a distant quarrel- no doubt on who was involved- and couldn't help that his first words that he said to her were _"Delicate situation I presume?"_ To which Catherine laughed and replied _"Extremely, like two alley cats, it's why I've kept well away and am forced to spend my afternoon sat on this windowsill." "Here's hoping you manage to escape unscathed" _William said unable to stop himself from smirking.

Catherine sighed and raised an eyebrow as she looked down on him thinking of his words, contemplating the consequences of coming in contact with either her mother or sister in their current moods, the results she fathomed were not pretty. But on a lighter note she called down to him _"Well whatever happens I fully expect you to pick up what's left of me."_This comment had William let out a hearty laugh which caught the attention of Anthony Knivert and Charles Brandon who stood nearby talking and had them look up to see Catherine leaning out the window.

Brandon was instantly intrigued by the beautiful stranger and Knivert flustered by her and the lovely scarlet satin dress with jewelled bodice that she wore which fit her like a glove. Leaning out the window allowed those down below to have view of her bare neckline and cleavage as her hair was upswept into a tousled bun. Both men noted the apple she held in her hand which in between conversation bit into, ironic.

"_William"_ Charles called out as he urged his horse closer _"Pray tell me you wouldn't be so cruel as to keep from introducing us to your lady friend?" "I would" _began William as he arched a brow a Charles, _"seeing as she is my sister." _Brandon was slightly taken aback as he gazed up at the young woman who bore little resemblance to her brother, same skin tone and hair texture but that was about it. _"Well my apologies to you Lady Parr I had no idea of your relation to my friend" _Charles recovered sufficiently. _"I can hardly expect an apology if there is no offence Mr. Brandon"_ she answered back. Her reply had him give off a small smile.

Much of the party had now noticed conversation taking place including the King who strode up to the right of Charles' horse. _"My Lady"_ he said with a bow of head which was met with a _"You're Majesty." _The King took a look to his left to see Brandon's eager gaze and the blush on Knivert's cheeks before shifting his gaze to Catherine and remarking _"It seems you're making quite an impression rather quickly Miss Catherine." _The comment she could sense sent her subtle blush of colour over her cheeks but her eyes and lips never wavered.

Before she could reply the distant clamour grew louder as Catherine sensed her mother's approach, she turned her torso to face her mother's half curious half furious expression. _"What are you doing hanging out the window like that? You'll get yourself killed! Who are you talking to? Hmmm? What some stable boy? What don't get shy now let me see him!"_She pushed Catherine aside to peer out down to the King and his party looking up. Her face bore a look of shock and shame for a moment before she regained herself and put on a look of serenity. _"Ah Your Majesty good day to you Sir" _and bowed her head.

"_Madam"_ he said with slight amusement, _"I hope I wasn't keeping your charge from you?" "Oh no I was just curious of who my Daughter was conversing with Your Grace. No you weren't keeping her from much just some packing." "Packing?"_ the King said quizzically with his dark eyebrows furrowed. There was a moment of silence as Maud Greene sensed she had to tread carefully. _"Yes, I'm afraid my daughters and I will be returning home to the country, we leave tomorrow, but fret not William is to stay at court." _Thinking it was what he wanted to hear.

"_Keeping your daughters from court? Absurd. Catherine is young, beautiful and unmarried and you keep at your country estate tucked away? Most families would have her out and enjoying herself. Nay she must stay she has only arrived!"_ The King's tone was indignant and gave Maud no choice but to comply. _"Well yes... I... I suppose so...well I cannot say no at your insistence... I... I guess I shall order the servants to unpack the trunks."_ Clearly taken aback Lady Parr bid adieu and shuffled off reeling and confused at what had happened.

Catherine was as surprised as her mother and watched as her mother disappeared to tell her sister the news before turning back to those below. Charles allowed for a moment of silence to linger before speaking up _"Well I think we should all hope now to see much more of you know Miss Parr, much more" _with his trademark grin. His pure brashness made Catherine smile; just as she did so a shriek was heard in the background. _"Catherine oh Catherine come quick have you heard the news_?" Catherine gathered herself up and took her leave, stopping for a moment to look at Brandon and reply to his comment. _"I should think so due to the King's insistence" _her gaze flicking to Henry before standing up. As she leaned outwards, she tossed the apple in her hand out the window and then shut it and drew into the apartment.

Brandon caught the apple in his left hand and gazed at it for a moment, holding like a trophy before taking a proud bite from it. Not far where Catherine herself had bitten into it. His eyes met William's who looked at him sternly for a moment before speaking in a warning tone, _"Don't even think about it Charles." "I wasn't thinking of anything William"_ Brandon said in an innocent tone. William snorted before turning his horse round and as soon as he could no longer see Charles, Brandon mumbled with a mischievous smile _"But now you mentioned it."_


	4. Chapter IV

_Beautiful Girl _  
_On top of the world _  
_Don't fall down _  
_Because an angel _  
_Should never touch ground_

"**Beautiful Girl" by Broken Iris**

**July 5****th****, 1519**

Heavy feet trudged over the cold stone floors; every step forward was an effort. William was worn from the never ending days and long drawn out nights. There was not a day it seemed that passed without another hunt, joust or masquerade. The King and his court didn't have days off, everyday been an event, a spectacle. William was always one for a good time but as of late he was struggling to cope now everything was finally catching up to him.

He supposed this was the catch with being friends with Henry. Sure you had an invite to the most lavish balls and you got to play tennis with the Kings but you had to keep up with the pace. Those who faltered or flagged were simply left behind or Henry would simply grow so irritated or bored you simply fell out of favour. William couldn't afford to fall out of favour with the King, he had come too far to turn back now -his family's security depended on it.

As he collapsed into the great cushioned armchair near the fire he called to a servant to bring some ale. It would help to lull him into a peaceful sleep, he needed sleep. The fire flickered lazily as the hot embers begin to accept their slow cool death. He was alone. Mother, Catherine and Anne were all asleep and for that he was glad. He needed a little silence; it was a comfort and a rare luxury these days. So William relished it and his drink that the servant brought of whom he dismissed thereafter.

Leaning into the soft velvet backing he let his mind wander, not to be interrupted by his mother's listless drone or Anne's chatter. He sighed as his frame sunk into the deep cushions and began to think or rather...evaluate. Evaluate the current state of affairs. Something had been bothering him for a while but he hadn't the time or energy to mull over it.

Catherine had- as he had secretly predicted long before she had even arrived- made a big impression at court and everyone within it. She had quickly charmed her way into the hearts of many, even the King it seemed. While they had met only a time or two Henry's interest had grown in her daily. It was this that unnerved William. He hadn't been friends with Henry long but knew that the King changed his women as he would his clothes. Henry was a passionate man and his passions often inflamed then waned and occasionally one would come along that would last a longer than the others. But like the sweet nothings he would whisper into their ears to seduce them into bed all were meaningless.

William knew that while Henry kept a distance now soon his curiosity would lead him to pursuing her, ensnaring her and making her his. William was no fool... though even fools understood. Everyone knew the routine. Everyone knew what would happen soon enough. They knew the moment she arrived, another lamb to the slaughter. Poor girl, poor girl, beautiful girl- another notch to the King's bedpost. Seduced and shamed before being shoved at any man who would take her after he'd been bought off by the King. As if that would ease the pain.

He'd be expected to step back if the King were to make a move. Just turn a blind eye while his King violated his sister and family. What choice had he? But Catherine was different. She wouldn't stand for it he was sure she'd refuse his advances. Catherine was no man's puppet but then she'd never faced a force like the King. He held all the strings. William could only hope that Henry soon lost interest in her in favour for some other pretty little thing.


	5. Chapter V

**I know using an Enya song as my song inspiration is bit odd but it works. It's very spiritual and wouldn't be odd to hear this in a church. It's eerie, utilizes a choir and subject matter is about angels so works.**

_Even, as I breathe  
comes an angel to their keep.  
Surely, if this is  
promises are mine to give you.  
mine to give..._

"**Angeles" by Enya**

**July 7****th****, 1519**

Soft golden light from the morning sun poured through the stained glass windows of the chapel. It mixed with the vivid colours of the glass so that splashes of rich blues, vivid greens and sumptuous reds danced along the cool grey stone floors and dark wooden pews. The colours danced to their own silent tune with no one to appreciate it- except Catherine.

She often found herself in solitude here in her own private sanctuary most early mornings. Few were up at such a time not even the priest. The door was left open at all times for anyone who sought out the Lord, or for Catherine peace. It was in these fleeting moments in the half an hour she would have to herself in which she could collect her thoughts, think clearly without fear of interruption or just simply be. As of late she found herself seeking out her favoured pew, the second one on the left side. Not just in the mornings it seemed but at all hours.

Catherine was religious, she was raised in a Catholic household by Maud Green only second to Katherine of Aragon, Queen of England as the most devout. She believed most ardently and passionately. Attended church services daily, prayed before meals and bed, never missed a confession, gave money to the poor and often spent afternoons with her nose buried in her pocket Bible which she often toted around with her. Oh she was a believer; but it wasn't God who drew her beloved pew every morning without fail but the silence.

Catherine thought she knew the meaning of silence until she experienced the silence in the chapel at dawn. It was a thing of unseen beauty. It hung in the air as a thick veil that enveloped you in warmth and calm, soothing you. As you moved further into the depths of the room and delved further into the abyss all of your fears and troubles simply melted away. You were swept into a sweet euphoria of relief. It was little moments like this that Catherine reasoned life was worth living for. These few moments of pure joy; with just her, her beloved pew, her battered Bible, a set of silver Rosary beads given to her by her mother and the silence. And the Jesus figure up on the high wall sombrely watching over her.

Perched on the edge of her seat and leaning her elbows on the backs of the pews in front of her as she fingered her rosary and silently said her prayers. Catherine was transfixed with the swirls of purple and green that were flitting over the flagstones and up the side of the altar when the silent world around her was shattered. Most would have never been able to detect the subtle change signalled by the barely inaudible aching creak of the oak door as it opened.

Like fine glass the atmosphere cracked as shoes quietly struck the stone floors as the intruder carefully closed the door behind him. Body tensed and her breath caught somewhere within her throat she waited for the person to move or speak. She dared not turn her head. There was a moment of stillness in which Catherine and the intruder waited in silence for the other to move first, she knew they had spotted her. A wait that only lasted few seconds but felt like hours, with neither moving, speaking and for Catherine barely breathing. However the intruder broke the ice by slowly making their way up the aisle before choosing a pew in which to slump into to the right side some ways behind her. As Catherine heard the creak of wood she let out a raspy breath of relief for what she was not quite sure.

Henry analysed her intensely as her frame relaxed as he sat down and as it shuddered as she began to regain her breath it seemed. His icy blue eyes watched to see if she would turn to see who had entered the church but Catherine kept her back to him. Instead of seeing her face he had to be content with the back of her head. His eyes raked over her. Her hair was in loose ponytail that was swept to her left shoulder while she wore a soft lemon coloured dress with a subtle golden floral print and white lace trimmings from what he could see.

Light from one of the clear window panes bathed her figure bringing out the warmth of the gold thread, caught on an unseen earring which glittered and set her hair alight giving her a heavenly aura. Henry watched her in awe as the sun's rays dazzled his vision. But the light was fleeting as a passing cloud cut off the sunshine and the warm glow died around her frame. Her hair dulled, her skin paled and her dress lost its vibrancy. The spell was broken and the moment slunk silently away.

A lingering pause before Henry noticed Catherine crossing herself and getting up. She turned to left and hurriedly strode down the side of the row of pews, with her head down. Henry in the midst of prayers quickly crossed himself and got up. He watched her for a moment in an attempt to catch her eye but to no avail. Unable to muster words to speak without thinking he jogged down the aisle to the doorway hoping to get their before she did. She moved quickly but not quick enough.

Catherine had her eyes glued to the floor; she hadn't taken one look at the other person in the chapel. She hoped for a quick silent get away but only a few steps from the entryway a figure emerged in her line of vision. Catherine collided with him; she saw a glimpse of his attire. A moss green riding jerkin made of satin with fine gold detailing of ivy vines that crept over the fluid fabric. It was layered over a white cotton shirt. Paired with light brown trousers and brown leather riding boots with gold buckles.

Fine clothes, beautiful even, only fit for a king. Catherine knew... knew without even looking at his face. By the way he stood, by the way his hot breath ruffled her hair smelling of fresh mint, she just knew. Without a word she instinctively curtseyed something that she'd been bred to do. _"I'm so sorry Your Majesty" _she breathed. A soft chuckle followed her words catching her off guard.

She looked up with her brows furrowed at Henry's face lit up with subtle delight. _"You're being very allusive this morning Lady Parr. I suppose you're not much of a social butterfly I suppose?"_Catherine was taken aback by his amused nature she stared at him for moment unsure of what to say in response. Her mouth agape she struggled to formulate an appropriate reply and force it out of her unwilling throat.

"_I... I...Well... I doubt few ever are so early in the morning."_The corners of Henry's mouth which had relaxed in while he waited for a response couldn't stop themselves from curling upwards. There was moment of silence as they both took each in. _"Well"_ Catherine began hesitantly desperate to escape Henry's gaze which was lingering on her face for far too long. _"I must go now, my mother will start to worry where am..." "Few would be up at this hour..." "Good day..." "Surely you can stay..."_But Catherine already tried to take a futile step to the door but Henry moved with her and continued to block her way.

"_Catherine..."_ Henry said as his hand reached for her cheek stopping her in her tracks. She looked up and her eyes met his. Catherine saw a subtle wonder within his gaze, not a desire or passion but a sense of admiration. He looked at her like he would a masterpiece of a fine painter or as he would his prized pure- bred horse. A thing of beauty to be put on a pedestal so that it can looked upon and admired. It was unsettling. Catherine tore away from Henry and dived around him before dashing through door and sprinting down the empty halls to her chambers.

She didn't stop running until she reached her bedroom where she was met with a different kind of silence. This was stark, cold and for the moment refreshing. As she struggled to regain her breath and fight the panic rising within her, she sensed her fate from that moment onward would take a very different path. She had unknowingly caught the attention of the King of England. Something had been started in the church... a fascination. It was small but it was there. If it continued and it grew then something would soon have to give, and with Henry as King Catherine secretly knew that something would have to be her.


	6. Chapter VI

**I actually wrote this while listening to Tracy Chapman, mainly 'Crossroads' and 'Fast Car' as their great templates to write from. However the lyrics of 'Uncharted' are just so fitting to this slightly humorous chapter. I'm determined to use Tracy Chapman's lyrics at some other point as she's a brillant songwriter and fitting for Catherine's attitude and her relationship with Henry. Anyways hope you enjoy it, may be a while before I update again. Not sure as I've got the weekend and a bank holiday off so may be able to squeeze in another chapter but if not don't worry if I don't update for a week or two I'll be back with a vengance soon enough. **

_I'm going down,  
Follow if you want, I won't just hang around,  
Like you'll show me where to go,  
I'm already out, foolproof idea, so don't ask me how  
To get started, it's all uncharted..._

"**Uncharted" by Sara Bareilles**

**July 23****rd****, 1519**

It had been a little over two weeks since she'd had the confrontation with Henry in the church and Catherine still felt uneasy about it. Henry has surprised her completely, instead of his perusal becoming more intense it had stopped all together. Now he simply ignored as she were not even there. Admittedly he had done little prior to the run in the way of chasing her but simply watched her from a distance. There was still a distance but now one that was cold and calculated.

At times Catherine had to question whether their meeting had even happened. Henry didn't go out of his way to hinder her life or to obviously avoid her but rather tried to ensure their paths never crossed. She noticed he never hunted near the route where she took her morning walks; he would remain seated if she was up dancing and despite still being close to her brother he would never accept an invitation to sup with the family in their private apartment.

Unsure of what to do in order to atone for the offences against the King she could only think of to do all she could in order to not cross his path. Lest she angered him further. So far she had been successful at keeping a low profile: she would only walk the same beaten paths for her strolls which he now carefully avoided, she spent much of her time in her apartments reading and if she attended feasts she would dance only a few dances before retiring to her table with her family and friends and keep her head down.

She didn't venture out as often as used to but on a rare occasion had taken up her brother's offer for a day of boating out on the Thames which ran along the side of the court. It was a glorious sunny day with continuous light summer breezes that wafted through bringing with them cool relief and the scent of the blooming flowers from the Privy gardens. As William rowed the oars of the small wooden boat Catherine lay back and soaked up the sun's rays revelling it the warmth that caressed her skin. With her eyes closed she took in the sounds of the boatmen shouting, the ducks quaking and the dull sound of the oars slicing through the water. The smell of fresh baked bread from one a kitchen window mixed with roses and hyacinths. The feel of the cool water running over her fingers dangled into the river...

"_A helping hand wouldn't hurt right about now" _a voice said piercing through Catherine's hazy daydream. She opened one eye to meet the raised eyebrows of William. The two eyed each other for a moment before Catherine sat up opening her other eye to arch her own brows challenging his. _"But such a task can only proficiently by a man. I'm too feeble and it requires the strength which only a man can possess."_Her voice quavered as she tried to sound as pathetic as possible while her eyes widened and her lips subtly pouted. William stared at her for moment before bursting out in laughter. _"You could have almost fooled me that time" _as he pushed the handles of the oars to her. _"William you invited me boating meaning so you must entertain me. It's hardly fair that you should take me out on water for a leisurely afternoon and then expect me to do all the brute work."_

She yawned as she began to stand up carefully to stretch. Her brother's face changed from amusement to fear, _"What do think you're doing? Sit back down woman or you'll have us overboard." _Catherine furrowed her brows disapprovingly as she swayed for a moment allowing the boat to steady itself before extending her arms out to the sky and yawning once more. _"Relax we'll be fine if you calm down." _But William was having none of it and began to tug at her dress with a white cotton blouse and underskirt and orange, gold and olive green striped bodice and skirt over the top.

"_Catherine, sit down" _he said through gritted teeth. Catherine was getting irritated with him telling her what to do and crossed her arms her chest before saying a defiant _"No."_ William lurched upwards trying to grab her waist and pull her down but the speed and power of his movement caused the boat to rock violently. _"William-"_she screamed just before she hit the water. The boat had been toppled and both Catherine and her brother had been sent straight into the river's dark depths. Despite the slight notion of fear she did revel in the feeling of the cold murk bathing her skin and drenching her clothes. The way the cold shot through her it was startling but invigorating.

But she couldn't stay in the cool abyss for long; her lung's had little oxygen left so Catherine kicked her legs so she bobbed to the surface. She saw William clambering up onto the upturned boat gasping for air and she swam towards him. At the back of her mind a little voice thanked the old gardener of Kendal who taught her and William to swim, he was an ex-sailor who guaranteed the skill would one day save their lives. She reached the boat and with clammy hands pulled herself up onto the boat. She lay on her back and the distinct urge to laugh, she couldn't help herself.

William looked at her astonished at his sister's reaction but focused on catching his breath. _"You know..."_ Catherine began _"I guess old Crastner was right. Teaching us to swim would save us."_ _"Save us trouble, I doubt we'd have met our maker today if we weren't taught" _William replied. Catherine looked at him for a moment and sighed all the while shaking her head. _"Like the trouble of waiting for help" _she mumbled before she dived into water. She hadn't the patience to wait for assistance to arrive so took matters in her own hands and would swim the short distance to shore. As her lithe body paddled through the water she make out the muffled splash of her brother equally impatient.

The two reached dry land and hauled their sopping bodies onto the river bank. _"We should get inside quickly before someone sees us" _William said as he scanned across the court lawns. Catherine's gaze followed his and saw that there was no one about and they could make a sprint across with a soul seeing them in their current state. She thought for a moment about it, they could sprint or _"Race?"_ William looked at his sister's challenging him with her mischievous smirk. He grinned as he hauled himself up. They checked again to make sure it was clear before they tore across the lawn.

Catherine hitched up the bottom of her skirts as her bare feet pounded over the soft grass; she had taken her shoes off in the boat. Her hair was loose and what strands hadn't been plastered to the back her neck were now dancing in the wind behind her. Her eyes were light up with delight and her cheeks bore a kind of rosy flush only attained with rigorous exercise. She dashed across the plain of grass and onto a gravel pathway cursing herself as the sharp stones cut her feet. She ran along the side of a small pond as she weaved her way through the twists and turns of the Pond Gardens. She had taken a shortcut; it would take her less time to navigate the smaller gardens without being seen than to go across the greater expanse of the lawns.

She passed through shrub walled pathways, over planted flowerbeds and past marble fountains. Just as she was turning a corner she smacked into someone. Catherine was at first stunned as she felt her body collide with another and the other person nearly fall back but they steady themselves and her. Horror then filled her as she realised the state she'd been caught in sprinting recklessly without shoes and her dress drenched and hair matted. The horror turned to deep burning shame as the shock of the collision had made her close her eyes and as she forced herself to open them saw the person who she collided with.

"_Your Majesty forgive me" _she said breathlessly as she sunk into a deep curtsey. Even as she rose up she kept her eyes glued to the ground, not being able to look at his face so instead opting to stare at his boots. The suddenness of their meeting had stunned Henry and his companions into silence as he now stared at Lady Parr standing before him soaked through. Her dress clung to her body showing every curve, the water droplets in the afternoon sunlight glittered on her glistening skin and her hair hung in wavy strands. One strand hung in front of face which stopped just short of her low neckline which perfectly showed off her ample cleavage.

Henry's eyes lingered before a voice within him screamed at him to snap out of it. _"Lady Parr..."_ he muttered as he nodded as a voice in the distance called out _"Catherine."_ It was William and caused Henry to look up which gave Catherine enough to make her exit. _"I bid you adieu" _she mumbled before dashing around Henry. Mortified to the core she ran away as fast as her legs could carry her aware that Henry had tried to follow her. He jogged out of the gateway of the gardens to see her run across the last stretch to the palace. Henry saw her body shoot effortlessly over the ground as her skirts flapped in the wind baring her pale ankles and calves. With her slim legs on show and her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress Henry couldn't help his breath quicken slightly at the sight.

He watched with amusement as a loose hound chased now her heels and she approached the Archbishop of Canterbury and a colleague. She pushed through them nearly knocking them over; the hound in hot pursuit had the Archbishop so frightened he threw himself to the right. The chaos continued as a maid with freshly washed linen who Catherine had been able to avoid screamed and dropped the sheets and shirts as the hound bounded in her direction. But Catherine was oblivious as he hiked up her skirts and dashed to the door. She found herself laughing to herself; things couldn't get any worse as she flew up the steps to the palace. Then she ran into her mother.


	7. Chapter VII

**Apologies for the long wait I'm in the middle of exams so for the next week I doubt I'll get to write much. Anyways stuffs happens in this chapter some progress I guess. Sorry their such a big build up I really want to develop characters and relationships first. Promise more action to come in next few chapters. If my grammar or spelling's off it's because I haven't proofread sorry I don't have time. I'll go over it another day.**

_Everyday, everyday  
Houses full of no escape, no escape  
Runaway, runaway  
It starts to pull  
He's in this place, in this place  
To question who you are_

"**Contact" by Falling Up**

**August 7****th****, 1519**

Things did get worse. Maud Green was less than pleased to come face to face with her sopping wet daughter two weeks prior; breasts nearly falling out of her bodice and her skirts hitched up nearly to her knees. Even less so with the King of England there to witness it all as did the Archbishop of Canterbury who had been floored by a hound. The same hound who had managed to slobber all over Maud's new gown.

In fact Catherine had never seen her mother so angry. Her anger led her to keeping her daughter under lock and key for two weeks. Two long agonizing weeks and Catherine was not even allowed out to walk Uther or to visit her beloved mare at the stables. She was resigned to reading and playing cards but that simply wasn't enough to keep her safe from boredom's grasp. When she couldn't bear to pick up another book or card or talk to her insufferable mother or sister she slept. Sleep provided her with some solace.

When she emerged finally from her apartments she looked refreshed and her dark circles under her eyes had all but gone- she had sought much solace over those 14 days. Her brother had invited her to join him and his friends on a hunt by suggestion of the King. Catherine supposed his pride wasn't too hurt, not as much as she assumed hers was by the escapades of the other day.

She opted for and pearl grey silk gown with an intricate swirling pattern and a white kirtle with a contrasting leafy pattern. The dress had black velvet trimmings and pearl beading along the neckline paired with black velvet trumpet sleeves and white linen cuffs. The belt was black and silver braided rope with a black tassel at the end. She donned a black velvet choker with a ring of diamante. Then to complete the look, a black flat brimmed hat with one side turned up topped off with a large white feather. She decided for modesty's sake she wore a black net veil and wore high boots and white gloves.

Looking in the mirror she admittedly looked good- respectable but the outfit wasn't too stuffy. It passed her mother's inspection but not without a few words of advice. "_Try not to completely show us up today Catherine. I'm not sure our family can bear another public embarrassment"_ Maud said with a worn voice. _"Yes Mother"_ Catherine quietly replied. There was a moment in which the two looked at each before the old woman pulled her daughter close into a hug and whispered into her ear _"But I wouldn't be too upset if you wooed a single Duke or maybe an Earl, due what you can."_ They pulled away and the pair shared an exchange of small mischievous smiles. Despite her age Maud still possessed a sense of humor.

William stayed by her side like a loyal hunting hound or like a protective guard dog. As they road through the woodland he had a tough time multitasking; talking to Catherine, guiding his horse through the terrain and giving evil eyes to any man whose gaze lingered too long on his sister. There were many looks as Catherine was the only woman asides from Princess Margret the King's sister- who was of course off limits. So Catherine had to settle with gazing at nothing in particular in order to avoid any man catching her eye. They road further into the woods and soon attention diverted from her and to the point of the outing; the hunt.

It wasn't long before the hounds caught whiff of a stag and the pace picked up as the party spurred their horses on to a canter. They wove through the trees before coming to a massive clearing where they saw the animal in the long stretch of grass making its way the river. The King hesitated for a moment before calling to William he could stay with Margret and Catherine while the others pursued the deer. But Catherine was determined to follow them in hot pursuit; she was an avid rider and her fine steed Rispa could easily outpace most horses let alone deer.

William nodded and turned to her but he could see from her furrowed brows and pout that she would have none of it. _"Catherine"_ he said "_I'll be fine you can stay with Margret if you wish."_ He sighed and looked at for a moment hoping she wasn't serious but knowing full well she was. _"Race?"_ he said one eyebrow giving in, at this she smiled and replied coyly _"Race." "My sister will be joining us"_ William called back to which Margret whined _"Well I'll have to come if no one will stay with me."_ Henry in the meantime became irritated with the stag being able to gain so much ground in the time that has passed, _"Fine"_ he replied haughtily before spurring his horse into a full flown gallop.

The whole party quickly followed suit across the great plain with clothes flapping in the wind and foam flying from their horse's mouths. Some of the party whooped and hollered as the excitement increased and the adrenaline pumped through their veins. Catherine gave her brother a look and they gave their horse a little nudge and guided them to the edge of the group. Their horses shot forward easily outpacing the others until the pair had even surpassed the King. They galloped side by side as the horse's bodies stretched as far as they could and lungs gulped down air. However Catherine had kept Rispa from going at full speed, fighting the mare back to let loose yet. She allowed William to gain a little ground for while to let him think he was winning before letting go completely and allowing Rispa free.

She laughed as she passed William and her horse continued to speed on. Carefree she allowed her horse to keep going, she barely noticed they had run past the deer itself and continued on towards the riverbank. As she neared she could hear worried calls but ignored them- they thought her horse was out of control- far from it. When they got to the edge gripped the reins and gave her a nudge as the mare launched herself over the edge and neatly landed on the other side before racing off into the distance.

William caught up to the stag pulling out his bow slung across his back and an arrow which he carefully aimed at the animal. The bow struck it in the left hind causing the animal to buckle and collapse to ground. The poor thing whimpered as it struggled to clamber back up as the party neared, the hounds with the smell of blood became excited and nipped at the poor creature. William hated to see it suffer and was glad that Henry ended its suffering quickly and painlessly with an expert aim of a gun. The others congratulated him of his glorious kill and the footmen quickly picked the stag up to be brought back to the palace to be cooked as a celebratory supper.

It was at this point that William noticed his sister was still gone; he had seen her jump over the river and then disappear into the distance. He quietly suggested to Henry they follow her. To which the King nodded musing _"Yes it seems that your sister became a little sidetracked, shame she couldn't see me fell that stag. Did you see how large it was?"_ They soon headed over the river and through another small wooded area; William was beginning to worry for his sister's whereabouts. But when they approached a high grassy hill he saw a lone figure slumped against the base of a tall oak tree with her horse grazing nearby.

When they neared he saw she was sitting eating a juicy, red apple with the corners of her mouth curled ever so slightly. _"Enjoyed yourself did you?"_ William called as he dismounted his horse. The whole party soon settled down for a light lunch as the others produced food and drink and sat down unpeeling jackets and gloves. Henry came to Catherine with something in his hand for her. _"I believe you have misplaced something Milady_" he said smoothly as he handed her the hat that had flown off from her little adventure. Catherine blushed as she thanked him politely suddenly aware of her hair now loose and disheveled.

"_Walk with me?"_ Henry suggested casually, unsure but not wanting to cause offence Catherine agreed and the two set off. They strolled along the back of the oak going down the other side of the hill towards a thickly wooded area. For the most part their conversation was mainly small talk; they discussed families, weather and recent balls. Catherine made sure the conversation never differed much from such topics and was eloquent and reserved in her speech allowing Henry to do most of the talking.

It wasn't until they neared the trees and Henry stopped as he began to enquire about Catherine's home at Kendal in Cumbria that she noticed a change in conversation. She was distinctly aware that they were alone and that the King was awfully close. She could feel his warm breath on her skin as his eyes never left her face. All of sudden in a quick motion he moved to her and she by instinct moved back but found herself with her back to a tree. She was pinned here as his arms planted themselves on either side of her body.

"_Catherine don't be alarmed"_ he whispered, too late for that Catherine thought as she weaved to the right under his arm and tried to shuffle off. But he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. _"Your Majesty please we have company nearby" _she pleaded, looking away for his searching eyes. _"They can't see a thing, we're all alone." _She looked at him as he longingly gazed at her before his face lit up with laughter. _"I've dreamed about this moment for a while now." _Puzzled Catherine smartly replied _"You've barely known me two months" "That's a long while." _

He then pulled her in for a kiss. She was shocked so much so she could barely understand what was happening as her body tensed. It lingered for a few moments before that voice of reason screamed at her to pull away. She jerked from him panting as she looked him up and down not sure what to do. _"It'll be a while yet before I let that happen again"_ before turning back to the hill. As she moved she heard a voice behind her say _"And I'll be waiting."_


End file.
